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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268141">Innocence So Sweet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hansonveggieclub/pseuds/hansonveggieclub'>hansonveggieclub</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game Grumps</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dan is pretty ooc in this, Drug Use, F/M, I have literally never done drugs bear with me here, Jail, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Indulgent, Stoner Dan Avidan, Violence, m for swearing and violence, mentions of police brutality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:21:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hansonveggieclub/pseuds/hansonveggieclub</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You hear, Avidan? They’re finally puttin’ you away.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Innocence So Sweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Decided that this can be read as a single story, given current circumstances it feels indecent to continue writing but I’ll leave this up.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Leigh Daniel Avidan grew up in a quiet neighborhood. From the time he was born to the age of 19, he lived with his parents in a house safe from harm and a room full of comic book superheroes that spent their lives saving the world. </p><p>Leigh Daniel Avidan was a rebel of sorts. Listened to Rock and Roll, sported leather jackets, smoked, and fought. He was a regular Mick Jagger in the eyes of his peers, and a troubled young teen in his parent’s. </p><p>Leigh Daniel Avidan was never always good kid, but he was not a criminal. </p><p>When age 20 rolled around, the time came to move away from his childhood home and into a neighborhood of his own. Pockets empty, he looked into every hole in the wall he could find. As luck would have it, he found somewhere to stay. It was unbelievably cheap, and left a large portion of his income to be blown on recreational drugs. A year had passed in the place Danny still hadn’t gotten used to calling ‘home’, and there were some things he came to know:<br/>
Hot water was a luxury few could afford, stay indoors past eight if you know what’s good for you, don’t go looking suspicious, and don’t you /ever/ get caught. </p><p>For a user, rule number three was a bit harder to follow. Patrol cars up and down the street every thirty minutes made it difficult to not be seen, and cops around here had it out for you, no matter who you were. </p><p>As one year turned in to two, Dan lost his menial day job and was set adrift. Income was ambiguous, and drugs erased any worry that things wouldn’t turn out okay. However still uncertain at times, he dipped his toes into dealing.<br/>
It was never reliable, but it paid the rent. </p><p>The first few times were admittedly terrifying, and it probably made him look more rudimentary than intended. But as time moved on yet again, he could relax. Get better. Careless, even. However, getting careless is how rules three and four get broken. You can easily forget it’s 8:32, and a patrol car will come up the street in three minutes. You can easily think to forgo certain precautions like secrecy and concealment. And if these things are so easy to do, you can just as easily get caught. </p><p>It was 8:34 when Dan first heard the siren. It was a noise he was used to by now, but still wary of. In a heartbeat, he turned around, and in the same instance realized he had no place to run. No one had even gotten out of the vehicle yet, but he knew he’d be in for it in the least. The squad car pulled up to the curb with a squeal, and two officers jumped out. Reflexively, Dan backed away. A mistake he would come to regret as they shouted at him to get on the ground. In seconds, he was tackled, face ground into the pavement, and in minutes he was cuffed against the side of the vehicle. Face turned to the left as not to break his nose, he watched in distress as the second cop furiously scribbled something down. The officer to his back was patting down pockets, pulling out a stack of fives and tens he kept for change and everything he was about to sell to the lucky bastard who’d managed to bust it into a neighbors house. </p><p>Dan tried his best to defend himself, but the glare of the officer was reminiscent of a disappointed father. As the one berated him for every item he pulled out of his coat pockets, the other stayed silent, shaking his head in disdain. </p><p>In a blur, Dan was stuffed into the back seat without so much as a word from the one. At the station, it was a whirlwind. One moment he’d be having his rights read to him, another giving out his information. At all times there was someone clacking endlessly on a keyboard. He could hardly do anything but stare at his hands, the two constrictive metal loops giving him a weird sense of deja vu. </p><p>For the next week, he was stuck in a cell. One far more comfortable than the ones he would later be accustomed to. People came with food and officers came with updates. Everyone seemed so smug, even the people he shared a block with. He refused to speak and oftentimes eat for days on end until finally, the trials came. </p><p>What seemed like every other week, Dan would be dressed down, lawyered up, and presented in front of the court. A jury of his peers stared him down, taking mental notes of his behavior. Judge after judge would be honored on entrance only to tell him it wasn’t up to them, but onto a higher court. About four months in to this grueling process, Dan was served new information: prison time was imminent. His lawyer talked about a plea bargain, that if Dan would just say he was guilty he could get less time. He never agreed, though. Although time would happen whether he liked it or not, admitting guilt was a defeat he would not let the officers around him indulge in. </p><p>After long months waiting, the day came. He was given his usual stack of clothes, dress shirt and tennis shoes in favor of the bright orange jelly clogs. There was nothing new to tell, but the officer spoke anyway. </p><p>“You hear, Avidan? They’re finally puttin’ you away.” He grinned an awful smile, brandishing a new silver tooth. Apparently, a block over there was some kind of fight. Officer stepped in and got it handed to him. For now, Dan has no snarky retort, just nodded and stuck his hands out to be unlocked. Once he changed, he was re-cuffed and pushed into a car. The routine had always been the same. They arrived at the same courthouse as last time, Dan remembered the tall pillars below the large gold insignia. As usual, he was seated and stayed quiet. This time, however, Dan was never called up, only called upon to listen carefully. This is where he would be charged. Sifting through piles of legal jargon, he was charged with possession, as well as intent to distribute. His story was taken into account, and he was never charged with obstruction of justice like his arresting officers had requested. With two strikes of the gavel, his life felt like it was over. If he was downcast before, it was only a fraction of what he felt now. The ride back to the station was spent head in hands, silently and tearlessly weeping over a mistake that would cost him the next seven years of his life. When he was tossed back into his cushy cell, the officer left him with one last taunt. </p><p>“See you in hell, Avidan.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>new story! ill be updating tags when necessary, but im really hoping someone out there will enjoy this<br/>much love!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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